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yesterday marked ben’s 23rd year of being my slave. sure, some call it his birthday and for those…HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BENNY! however, i’ll stick to happy slave day, or happy underwear day (a left-over from his youth).

ben is the middle child, this title was not assigned by womb exit but by attitude. the lad has every trait of a middle child, mostly because he has me for an older sibling and that has mellowed him beyond belief. having a mellow attitude in my family is unheard of, so on occasion (read:constant basis) ben was forgotten…”not left at the gas station” forgotten, but “shit, it’s your birthday” forgotten. we lived in small town utah, so running to target for a last minute present was not an option.

**enter underwear**

i have 4 younger brothers, so my mom kept spare boy clothing tucked away in her closet, i.e. new packages of boxers. this is what bennyboy received most years as a gift, sad but true. luckily for my mom he was a good kid and never took offense to her after-thought gifts.

when i asked ben what he got from my parents i wasn’t at all surprised to hear they bought him underwear. it’s nice to have things i can count on, while the style has changed for him (boxers to jesus jammies), the gift never has. way to keep it real mom!

as per request, you can read my column here! look for my giant grainy noggin and from there you can read this week’s story. sorry, it took so long to post–be patient, i’m worth the wait…or so i like to think.

please take note of the stripper, sharing a cover with any stripper is a dream come true! for those of you that are friends with my mom, expect that cover to be noted in the annual bragging rights christmas letter.

i don’t recall which lunch spot we were at when pmk captured this little goodie for me, however, i did remember to add ice to my drink–and that’s what’s important…

aimee and i met our favorite punk rock couple for drinks last night. we were having a standing argument over which club is better: golden trails or southern exposure. (for the record, southern wins hands down, or tits up as the case may be.)

i mentioned that i’d been asking where to find stripperoke and hadn’t yet received an answer. drop dead chris is stunned into silence, NOT a usual occurrence. after a moment i get the well, i hope god give you an answer soon, because i’d really like to go.

yeah, that’s right…sometimes after a couple beers the simple word asking sounds amazingly enough like fasting to confuse even the coolest of kids.

i’ll be sure to blog back about the god-given answer soon!

why slc needs more biker bars:so when i see this guy on the road, i can rest assured i’ll meet him one hot summer night. i’m a sucker for a helmet with horns, ever since that halloween party three years ago–mmmm…vikings.

While we’re talking about new things in IN, make sure to pick up next week’s issue, where columnist Sarah Nielson will debut. Sarah is popular blogger (www.sarahbellumsn.blogspot.com) from Salt Lake City and each week she will share her frank and humorous views on being single in a city not made for singles. More on Sarah next week.

starting thursday, july 13th i’ll be writing a weekly column for IN magazine about my single life. not to worry–i’ll still be blogging away, but now you can read me elsewhere.

remember the days of newspapers? well, those days are back!

look around town for IN magazine, utah’s weekly entertainment rag, they’re starting to pop up around town. comment me and let me know when you pick up your copy!

don’t worry buddy, your auntie sarah’s upset about dubya having a birthday too. it’s ok, you’re not the only one worried about him running the country, we all are.

i understand that for most people the selling point of the jeep liberty is that it comes in diesel, making it a jeep liberal in my world—yes, i live in the land of bio-diesel, saving the world one tank of soy oil at a time. however, for me all it takes is a picture of a one-eyed pug and i am sold!

celebrating independence day properly is important when you played the part of a country girl in your past life, and nothing screams americana louder than a small town demolition derby.
following tradition i painted my name on country carl’s car, happily i might add–as he chose to have a pink car this year.
watching the cars wreck their way into a championship round is a good time, however, i’m just as happy listening to johnny cash playing over the pa system. and these people? they’re just happy to have a place to stand for the national anthem.
sadly, the power of pink wasn’t quite enough to bring the trophy home. carl was able to get his car out of the arena with the help of a few pals, this guy…wasn’t so lucky!thanks to all those who sat with me mullet free, also thanks to the door guy for looking the other way when i dragged in a purse full of alcohol. the country just isn’t the country without a little buzz going on, right??

it’s funny the signs ben leaves to let me know he’s here for the weekend…